DARK Lily without blame, Not upon us the shame, Whose sires were to the Auld Alliance true; They, by the Maiden's side, Victorious fought and died; One stood by thee that fiery torment through, Till the White Dove from thy pure lips had passed, And thou wert with thine own St. Catherine at the last. Once only didst thou see, In artist's imagery, Thine own face painted, and that precious thing Was in an Archer's hand From the leal Northern land. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SWEET CLOVER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO PFRIMMER (LINES ON READING 'DRIFTWOOD') by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 114 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI VISIONS OF THE WORLDS VANITIE by EDMUND SPENSER BLACK GIRL by ASCLEPIADES OF SAMOS THE BABY-HOUSE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A PRAYER FOR LIFE by GEORGE SHEPARD BURLEIGH THE AULD FARMER'S NEW YEAR MORNING SALUTATION ... AULD MARE by ROBERT BURNS |